Broken Past
by VioletCheckers
Summary: Clockwork's help was help. That's how most see it. A mere "test"....But Clockwork sees it differently. That "help" destroyed his sanity...and his life. Rated M to be safe in reference to the future, but for now, I'd say T.
1. Chapter 1

Broken Past, Chapter One:

So, as I was rewatching The Ultimate Enemy, I noticed something that made me grin at how horribly cruel and awkward it could make a fic. It struck me as rather universally UNNOTICED BY ANYONE ELSE. I wrote on it in hope to shed some light on it, and if you watch that episode again, saying "No way, she's making that up." I warn you now. Its truth. Proof is there. Read this and see what I'm talking about. You'll love it. (If you're as sadistic as me :3) Enen if you're not, you're still gonna love it. Might be slashy later though! :D

Disclaimer: Characters and plot line references are Butch Hartman's and Nickolodeon's pride. I made this plot up though, so I'd like a teensy bit of credit, please.

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It was his fault…All his fault he turned into that…But how? Was his "help" forever inevitable? Would it always lead to that future? He winced as the vivid explosion and the boy's horrified face appeared in his racing mind. All of his loved ones…His friends…Gone in an instant before his eyes, his mind distant, crawling among their burnt bodies and torn away remains- arms and legs blown twenty feet away, flesh peeled away to reveal blackened muscle and charred bone. The poor boy had burns of the first and second degree, and blistered skin of his family seared to the fibers of his shirt. He watched as he sobbed uncontrollably even after the police and fire brigade arrived. An ambulance was called after they discovered him among the wreckage. He'd seen this play out over and over; the boy clenches his stomach, purging his stomach into a bin given to him by the medical personnel as he is led into the ambulance. Another heave causes him to drop it and spill his remaining stomach onto the black asphalt. He's taken into the ambulance, shaking, shattered, and the ambulance leaves for the hospital. Police interview the bystanders and a few more ambulances arrive for the dead. Forensics arrive for investigation of the scene…

Clenching his fist, he forwarded to when the scarred boy arrived in Wisconsin. He watched through the dozens of interrupted suicide attempts, the screaming and crying, the begging and pain…_The pain I caused…_ The ghost reminded himself. Soon it was followed by the decision…The tearing of halves, confusion tearing evil from a mortal body, the union of confusion and evil…Then the birth of a demon. The demon he created…

He paused the image in the portal. That face. Dark eyes, pale lips sheathing sharpened fangs…The crimson eyes stared through the portal, as if he knew he was being watched, which in a way he did; Dan emerged from the shadows as his past flashed inside the portal. His eyes were calm, but their red hue seemed to glow, and his face held disdain. The purple cloaked ghost in front of him turned.

"How long have you been standing there?" His tone was hidden…A skill Dan hated when done so convincingly well.

"I'm not _standing._" He paid back his frustration.

"How long have you been in the room Dan?" Clockwork snapped.

"Since you decided to play through my memories. Again." Dan crossed his arms. "Are you looking for something or do you enjoy watching my life unravel into nothing." The other ghost stayed quiet as Dan advanced. "Why _do _you keep watching that anyway? It's done. Unchangeable." Dan had a curiosity in his voice. Clockwork said nothing. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

_What isn't wrong with me? _Clockwork questioned himself angrily. Dan continued to speak, oblivious to Clockwork's racing thoughts. "You would've cussed me out and sent me on my way by now." As if Dan had physically punched him in the gut, Clockwork felt as though he doubled over in disbelief. Obviously he hadn't because Dan made no further move towards him. _Cussed you out….?_ Clockwork looked up at Dan for the first time since they had been aware of each other. "What?"

"Don't act like you don't know. You've done it three or four times now." He snickered.

"I don't cuss people out!" Clockwork said, exasperated. Last time he swore was… actually never…he never swore…at least not since he'd been a ghost. He made a physical gesture of this realization through a slight purse of his lips. Dan laughed.

"Sure you don't. And I take you don't drink a full pack a day!" He laughed, cocking an eyebrow at the cloaked ghost. He wound his laughter down quickly, smiling and biting his split tongue in disbelief, shaking his head. "You really have no idea do you? Why don't you just revisit the last time I was up here with you with that pretty little mirror of yours." Clockwork rolled his eyes.

"You're insane. Get out." Clockwork growled.

Dan bowed sarcastically and without a word, disappeared into the floor.

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I think I'm gonna let you guys decide what you think. Reviews are loved and worshipped, so please click that little button and write the strongest emotion you felt. I'd like to get people to scream, laugh and cry through the use of the written word and feedback would be oh so naise.


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter! Geez, I need to update more often and stop coming up with new stories on a whim. XDD

DP is not mine, blablabla….

Just read it XD

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After making sure the intruder left, Clockwork rose into the belfry of the Clock Tower. He came face to face with an empty frame with gears as the only sight through the raw metal border. This one was a different caliber of time viewer; the others below were portals into the mortal timeline. This one was for the immortal time-stream. No portal, and only for viewing outside of the timeline. It took a while for the idea to be fully grasped by its constructors, and it was well worth the wait. Plus, any way to get the Observers out of his hair and away from his business at the amount they were at the time before this special portal's idea had been thought up.

Clockwork had had a very stressful and emotional month some one hundred and fifty years ago; American issues had taken an all time high for a while and the Observers wouldn't get off of Clockwork's back and kept forcing the dire situation down the poor Time Ghost's throat. Clockwork finally cracked and ended up somewhat of a mess. He lost even his staff in the absentmindedness he had picked up. Unable to get his mind around the importance of finding his staff and hindering of the Observer's searching and coaxing of Clockwork out of his "laziness", months turned into years without timeline guidance. A war broke out between families and friends. Sabotage and betrayal threatened to tear a great country apart straight down the middle with the border marked by blood and decay: A period known as the Civil War. Had not been for optimism and groundbreaking views from Northern leadership, the Observers would've surely pulled the entire plug on such a dangerous situation and sent some sort of muscle to destroy America. Clockwork finally got himself together after the Observers left angrily, seemingly for good. He finally was able to find his staff and, seeing a way to end the Confederate's denial and pride, gave assistance to the Union in Gettysburg and personally to General Sherman and his troops, strengthening the whole lot through the "March" through Georgia until the coastal end in Savannah: This would be known as the Great General Sherman's "March through Georgia", and would be remembered as the final shattering blow to the Confederacy. Humans, as remarkable and clever Clockwork held them to be, justified all of these miracles as their own natures and resolve. Clockwork later assisted here and there throughout the rest of the nineteenth century and throughout (obviously such success in such a small time is otherworldly,) the nineteen hundreds to the nineteen twenties and throughout the "Jazz Age".

After such near-disaster, Clockwork held petition for the other frame's construction and addition to avoid future catastrophe. After a few days of dispute and convincing, planning was put underway. Mere months later, it was floating in the romanticized belfry and because of it, countless books have been recovered. Until now, when Clockwork was no longer living alone, he had never thought of it as a tool to revisit his own behavior.

Clockwork grazed the frame with a soft hand and the soft droning of old gears echoed through the entire tower. The familiar sound embraced him and adding to the melancholy, a humble bell from above tolled three. The slow growing glow from the center of the empty square soon filled the absent space to the rim. Clockwork exhaled once more as the image cleared bringing Dan's claims into the space. There was Dan, phasing through the floor again, strolling up behind Clockwork. When was this?

Clockwork watched as Dan placed a hand on his past self's should and craned his neck to look at Clockwork with a concerned expression. He could see Dan's mouth moving and only then could Clockwork see how tense he had been. He had whipped his head around glaring at the red-eyed ghost ferociously.

Clockwork watched, thankful for the lack of sound.

He had cornered the black shirted ghost, throwing punches to Dan's shoulders and indeed "cussing him out". He had grabbed Dan by the collar and _thrown _him to the floor, reeling back for another punch. Before he could connect his fist with Dan, the other ghost had phased through the floor, leaving Clockwork only empty air and the floor to punch.

He looked down at his hand. His knuckles were split and bruised.

Unbelieving, Clockwork dragged a searching hand down his face, thinking. His normally calm, wise gaze was now darting and unsure-His entire body shook with anxiety.

He lowered himself to ground level and took a step back off of solid ground, landing on the emerald upholstery of his lonely seat. 


End file.
